


Extra Credit

by orphan_account



Category: The Loud House (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 10:55:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8888191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	

"Open up your books to page forty-seven." The teacher instructed, "I'll give you all three minutes to skim through the paragraphs before I question you on them. I'm picking someone at random, so be on your toes!"

Matching most of the class's response, Lincoln let out an exaggerated groan as he took out his textbook. He was hoping for a free day, but with Mrs. Johnson, it's all work and no play. It can't hurt to dream at least, he thought to himself.

The page was filled with short excerpts from various essays. Lincoln couldn't make heads or tails out of any of it, but he was sure it had to do with the recent lecture that he didn't listen to. Given up already, he looked around the classroom to kill time. Across the room sat Christina, who was focused on the textbook.

Christina's request to transfer classes was short-lived due to the decreasing student population. She and Lincoln hadn't talked ever since the video of him kissing a photo of her went viral. Hoping to patch things up, Lincoln decided to use the rest of his time to jot down an apology note for later. To him, it was also a good opportunity to find a partner for the upcoming school dance.

"Alright class, time's up!" Mrs. Johnson said. Not finished with his note, Lincoln flipped it over to continue it for later. He didn't want the teacher to get suspicious. "Let's see, who to choose..." She playfully pointed her finger to various stud1ents, trying to gauge their reaction. Hoping that she wouldn't choose him, Lincoln nervously looked away. "Lincoln." Dangit.

"Y-yes, Mrs. Johnson?" Lincoln said.

"Can you tell me which of the writing styles are used in the fourth paragraph?"

"Uhh..." Lincoln looked at the book again, doing his best to feign concentration. His real issue was trying to remember what the writing styles even were. "...Exemplary?"

Mrs. Johnson sighed. "Did you even pay attention to our discussion before?" Lincoln shook his head. "I wish you would apply yourself more, Lincoln. You're a fine young man with limitless potential, and I'd hate to see it wasted."

As his teacher continued to call on other students, Lincoln slouched in his chair. Class was only an hour from being over, and each tick of the clock felt like a minute rather than a second. After drowning out any sound for a few minutes, a quick slap of the desk caused him to jump in attention. An assignment was placed on his desk as Mrs. Johnson continued to pass out papers to the classmates behind his row.

Already gotten a taste of the worksheet from the questions earlier, Lincoln knew what he was in store for. Accepting his fate, he bubbled in random answers and waited for a few other students to turn their papers in first. After finally turning in his assignment, Lincoln looked at his now empty desk. He scratched his head, swearing that something was missing.

Suddenly, the bell rang, breaking his concentration. Forgetting about his gut feeling, Lincoln ran out of the class to head home for a well-deserved rest. As the other students followed suit, Mrs. Johnson sat down to grade everyone's work.

Coming across Lincoln's mess of a paper, she couldn't help but feel bad for him as she circled a red 46 over his sheet. She meant every word she said to him about wanting him to improve. Mrs. Johnson hated to admit it, but she cared more for Lincoln than the rest of the class. She wasn't exactly sure why, but she was too preoccupied with grading things to ponder over such questions.

As Mrs. Johnson placed Lincoln's paper into a completed bin, she noticed a torn paper hanging from the bottom. Upon further examination, it seemed to be some sort of letter.

"heya,  
just wanted to say that i'm sorry for how i acted. i don't have much time so i'll get to the point. i've had feelings for you for a while, i just didn't know how to approach you about it. i really hope that doesn't weird you out or anything. anyways i know you're not gonna talk to me about it right now but maybe give me a hint or something if you're interested back? maybe we could eve"

The note abruptly stopped. It didn't have any names, but through context clues, Mrs. Johnson was able to decipher that it belonged to Lincoln. Blushing wildly, she darted her eyes around the now-empty room, making sure she was alone before she reread the contents.

A myriad of questions flooded the teacher's mind as she tried to make sense of things. Was this why he was having problems concentrating in class? How long had he felt this way? What was he going to say before the sentence ended on a fragment? Why was she starting to feel all giddy inside? She knew this was wrong, but she couldn't bring herself to believe the same thing.

It couldn't be that bad, Mrs. Johnson thought to herself. Lincoln always talks about living with ten sisters. He may not act like it, but he'd have to be mature for someone his age to handle all of that work. He must know how to treat a woman, at the very least... maybe even someone her age.

As her judgment became more and more clouded, Mrs. Johnson grabbed Lincoln's worksheet and scribbled out his 46. If she was going to give him hints like he asked, then she would have to start off on a good note.

\--

The next morning, Lincoln returned to class with the same enthusiasm as the day before. It was turning out to be a dull week at the house, and school wasn't helping his boredom. As he went to his desk, he saw a familiar worksheet with added red markings. Lincoln was tempted to throw it out without looking at it, but he was curious about how well he did despite bubbling in answers at random.

Closely examining the paper, Lincoln did a double take at the grade written in the corner. "I got an A!?" He unintentionally shouted out.

"That's correct." Mrs. Johnson said, sitting across the room, "I'm glad to see you're taking class more seriously. Keep it up, Lincoln, and don't forget, there's always room for... improvement."

The sudden pause in her sentence confused the student, but he was more preoccupied with figuring out how he got so lucky. After blurting out his feelings of surprise by accident, he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut, or else Mrs. Johnson might catch on to his guessing.

For the next few hours, Mrs. Johnson went on to discuss algebra with the class. She centered her attention on Lincoln, who was staring at the board as if it displayed ancient hieroglyphics. In the back of her mind, she felt worrisome over his lack of a response. Was she being too vague with her signals?

"Mrs. Johnson?" One of the students raised their hand, taking the teacher out of her daydreaming.

"Yes, Samantha?" She replied.

"It says in the textbook that the answer was fifty-six, but you wrote sixty-nine on the board."

"Is that so?" Mrs. Johnson said. As she walked over to see the textbook, she couldn't help but notice that Lincoln's desk was right next to hers. "Thanks for bringing that to my attention. Let me take a look..."

Watching Mrs. Johnson due to her close proximity, Lincoln was taken aback as she slowly bent down in front of him. She was uncomfortably close, and he couldn't move his chair back since it was bolted to the desk. His attempts to not look like a pervert were failing as he slowly became entranced at her slowly shaking her rump mere inches away from him. He took a mental note of the visible crack lining through the fabric, as if nothing was underneath.

"Hmph. I guess I was wrong." Mrs Johnson said, standing back up. As she walked back to the board, she took a quick side glance towards Lincoln, who was visibly hot and bothered. She smirked to herself before picking up the chalk. If being more direct was sending the right signals, then she knew one more way to draw his attention.

Lincoln was notably more alert for the next few hours than he had hoped to be. As much as he tried to shake it off, that mental image of Mrs. Johnson wouldn't leave his mind... or his loins. It was uncomfortable for him to cross his legs every time she walked by his desk, but he counted himself lucky that she never called on him in his flustered state.

As his teacher turned to write more on the chalkboard, Lincoln glanced over to Christina, who was preoccupied with jotting down lecture notes. With Mrs. Johnson distracted, it was a good time for him to continue his unfinished note. Reaching for his backpack, he suddenly remembered what he had forgotten the day before. His note was missing.

"Would you look at the time!" Mrs. Johnson said, checking her watch, "It's five minutes until recess! I'm sorry I kept you all waiting, I'll continue this equation when we get back. Take a few minutes to stretch your legs before we head out." Commotion quickly spread across the classroom as everyone was relieved to have a break from long division. Lincoln took the time to check through his backpack just in case his note was still in there. Four minutes of careful searching, and no dice. "Oh, and Lincoln." She continued, "I'd like you to stay for recess. I have some... things to discuss."

The rest of the class "oooh'd", much to his embarassment. In Lincoln's mind, there were only two reasons why she would want him to stay. Either she found out that he guessed on his worksheet and was going to scold him for it, or someone snitched to her about the note. Regardless of the reasoning, it was a death sentence for him.

The school bell blared through the room, but was quickly drowned out by the sound of cheers and stomping feet. As the last student closed the door, Lincoln nervously turned to Mrs. Johnson, who was leaning on her desk. The dead silence wasn't helping his composure. "So, uh... it sure is a nice day outside, wouldn't you ag-"

"Have a seat, Lincoln." She sternly interrupted. He quickly complied, returning to his desk. "Do you know why you're here?"

"I-I..." Lincoln stammered for an answer, unsure if he should spill the beans about his fraudulent grade. Watching his teacher lock the door, he had a feeling that he didn't have a choice. "Alright, alright, I'll admit it! I'm sorry, Mrs. Johnson, I just didn't under-"

"Agnes."

"...Huh?"

"Call me Agnes." Mrs. Johnson repeated. She leaned in front of Lincoln's desk, looking him square in the eye. "And you don't have anything to apologize for."

"Wait, I don't?" Lincoln grew nervous at his teacher's fixated gaze above him. "So why am I here, then?"

Mrs. Johnson broke her stare to look at the clock. "We don't have much time, so I can't go into details, unfortunately." With a careful swipe, Agnes removed the pencil from her hair, allowing her pink, flowing locks to descend to her shoulders. "Though I'm sure you can connect the dots on your own. You've always been quick to catch on to things, Lincoln."

"I really don't know what you're talking about... Agnes." Saying his teacher's first name to her face sent a wave of unease through his body.

Mrs. Johnson chuckled to herself at his response. She loved men who play hard to get, but there wasn't time for games. "Pick up a chalk piece and go to the board." She commanded. "I want you to write 'I will not not guess on my classwork' until there isn't a single inch of free writing space left. Is that clear?"

Lincoln's eyes shot open at her words. Was it really that obvious this whole time? Hearing an impatient foot tap beside him, he took no time in making his way to the board. "You got it, Agnes!" It still felt weird to say that, but he was more preoccupied with completing his task to care. Hopefully then, he'd catch the remainder of recess.

Watching Lincoln work on his assignment, Mrs. Johnson took note of his maturing form. The way he concentrated on his task with unwavering determination. The way his broad shoulders stretched as he moved to and fro... The way his butt clenched when he struggled to gain leverage for the top of the board. Only now realizing that she was subconsciously chewing on her pencil, Mrs. Johnson carelessly threw it away. "You know, Lincoln..." She said, "I can't imagine how much trouble it is to live with ten sisters."

"You have no idea... Actually, you might." Lincoln recalled the time Luan dropped a water bucket on her head. "It's not a problem, though. Not to toot my own horn, but I'm more than capable of dealing with them all."

"Oh really?" Unbeknownst to him, Mrs. Johnson slowly drew closer. "It must stress you out, at least. Am I right about that?"

"Believe me, I build up enough stress from a single day to make my hair go white. You know, if it wasn't already." That was her queue. Halfway through his assignment, Lincoln shuffled to the other side of the board, only to pause in shock as he felt cold hands grab his shoulders.

"I can help you relieve that stress." Agnes whispered into his ear. Frightened and confused, Lincoln tried to back away, only to be violently dragged into an open kiss. His chalk fell from the addled boy's grasp as his teacher shoved him towards the board. Both of their minds were sent into overdrive as Mrs. Johnson rabidly explored her student's mouth like a hungry wolf. Lincoln tried to avoid contact, but she pressed her tongue against his with every given opportunity.

Pulling away from their kiss, Mrs. Johnson took a moment to collect her breath. Lincoln stood there, stunned from such a quick turn of events. He now realized why she locked the door. "M-Mrs. Johns-, Agne-, whatever, what's gotten into you!?"

"Nothing... yet." She teased through exhausted pants. Lincoln blushed wildly as he crossed his legs once more. "By the way, don't think I didn't see that display of yours earlier." She knelt down and undid his zipper, retrieving his pulsing manhood from its denim prison. "My, you certainly are a gifted student, Lincoln~." She cooed, closely inspecting his unused goods.

Just like his teacher, Lincoln's judgment was slowly fading away while he struggled to even simply respond. Feeling a sudden warmth grasp his cock, Lincoln hunched back towards the chalkboard as Mrs. Johnson slowly moved her grip from the base of his shaft to the tip, making sure to please every inch of him. Pre-cum dripped out as she increased her pace. She carefully licked it up from the source before continuing, savoring her snack before the main course.

Continuing her pace, she felt his cock twitch in her soft hands. She knew from experience what it meant, and she stopped completely without a seconds notice. Denied of his release, Lincoln looked down to see Mrs. Johnson smirking at him. "How much do you want this, Lincoln?" She asked, much to his dismay. Lincoln's words poured out like a can of alphabet soup. "An A for effort." She teased, before enveloping the entirety of her lover in her mouth.

Unable to control himself, Lincoln let out a satisfied groan as Mrs. Johnson bobbed her head on his shaft. Giving him enough time to adjust, she took her tongue into action, swirling it around him like a scoop of ice cream. Lincoln quickly felt a familiar sensation return as he began to rapidly tap his foot on the tiled floor, losing his motor skills.

Taking one final push, she buried herself up to his developing pubes as thick spurts of seed washed down her throat. She swallowed every drop, milking him of whatever the boy had left in him. Finally getting empty shots, she slid back away from his shrinking manhood as she licked several tethered strings of semen from her lips.

Mrs. Johnson stood back up and gave him a lustful stare. "We have another sixteen minutes." She turned towards her desk and bent on the table, slowly removing her long skirt. As expected earlier, she was devoid of any undergarments. "You up for an extra assignment?" His teacher's words rang through him like the school bell as his cock turned rock solid once again. She wiggled her thick rump before suddenly flinching at the feeling of warms hands feverishly grasping her cheeks.

Preparing himself, Lincoln rubbed himself across Mrs. Johnson's sopping womanhood. Several drops of her impatient juices could be heard pittering onto the floor below the two. She couldn't help but elicit some moans of her own as his shaft massaged her clit. She couldn't take the foreplay anymore, she needed him inside of her right then and there. Unfortunately for her, that moment didn't come.

"L-Lincoln..." She unprofessionally whined, "Quit.. stalling. I can't take it anymorrrAH!~" Her words became lost in pleasure as Lincoln plunged his rod fully into her, hilting her to his balls. Slowly starting to move himself, Mrs. Johnson had turned into a complete mess, loudly moaning as each thrust slammed further into her tight walls. Her juices flooded out like a broken dam, creating a larger white puddle onto the tiles.

Finally reaching his end, Lincoln's pace grew more frantic as he felt his partner clench herself around him, denying him an exit. Still holding onto her firm ass, he kneeled in closer, pushing himself as far inside of her as physically possible. With a loud groan, Lincoln released once more, sending waver after wave of hot love into his teacher's depths. She let out a final satisfied moan as his dick made an audible plop, fully removing itself from her. Combined with her own juices, excess cum poured out of her as she continued to lay on her table, too tired to move.

"I... hate to break it to you, Mrs. J- Agnes," Lincoln panted, "but we have two minutes before the bell."

"Oh my gosh, you're right!" Looking at the clock again, Mrs. Johnson sprawled up from the table and went to retrieve her lost clothes. "Are you still hung up over not attending recess?" She joked.

"I think I got my excercise either way." Lincoln replied with a tired laugh. "By the way, tomorrow is early release, right? You know, I don't have to tell my parents..."

Several minutes later, the rest of the students returned to class, exhausted from their own innocent adventures. As Clyde ran into the room, he slid across a transparent goop, crashing into several front row desks.

"Whoops!" Mrs. Johnson said, "Must've spilled my water."


End file.
